


Green

by 852_Prospect_Archivist



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: AU, First Times, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 01:32:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/792492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/852_Prospect_Archivist/pseuds/852_Prospect_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim and Blair argue.  A bomb ticks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Green

**Author's Note:**

> A short story with a bang

## Green

by Sarah Saint Ives

Author's disclaimer: Not ours

* * *

Green Wire  
by Sarah Saint Ives 

The bomb ticked rhythmically inside the wooden crate, the top removed to expose the green digital timer to the small group of employees, assuring them of their impending death. The bank robbers who had set the bomb had made their escape with enough cash to live comfortably for the rest of their lives, not a thought wasted on the three men and two women left tied and gagged at the bombsite. 

* * *

Jim Ellison was irate. "Damn it, Blair, what's up with you? I wake up in the middle of the night to find you standing there by my bed. Just _standing_ there watching me sleep! _Watching_ me sleep! Then you give me some weird shit about sleepwalking. I know when you're lying, Chief. Don't forget I can hear your heartbeat." 

"Why do you constantly listen to my heartbeat?" Blair shot back. "You're pissed because you caught me watching you sleep...and you monitor every minute of my existence! You never let me out of range of your senses because you can't stand to _not know_ where I am or what I'm doing! I can't even go to the bathroom without you listening in!" 

"Not true." Jim denied obstinately. 

"Yes, it is, Jim. You're always there, always beside me, always in my face..." 

"You want me out of your face, Sandburg? You want me out of your life?" 

Blair drew in a trembling breath. "No, of course not." he answered. "It's just..." 

"It's just that we're starting to get on each other's nerves." Jim finished the thought. 

"No, that's not it." Frustrated, Blair pushed back his long curls. "No, Jim. You're too over-protective of me! It's just so automatic that you don't even think about it. As soon as there's a hint of danger, you're there, in front of me, protecting me. It makes me wonder how on earth I survived all those years before I met you." He leaned forward in the truck seat to suppress a shiver. "I can take care of myself, you know." 

Jim gave him a sharp glance. "Really? Can you? So you don't need me, then. Right?" 

His words gave them both pause. They gazed at one another in uncomfortable silence. 

Then, Jim practically shouted. " _Okay!_ Forget I said that! But, since we're arguing, I want to bring up a few things that annoy me about you!" 

"So you're going to forget the real issue and be petty." Blair nodded in irritation. "Okay, two can play at that game. Go ahead. You first." 

"You went out with Fern Ingram and you didn't get home until four in the morning." Jim began the list. 

"And that's your business _why_?" 

"Because I'm the guy you wake up when you stumble in the door at 4AM smelling like a bitch in heat!" 

Blair eyes widened. "You should talk, Mr. Pheromones! I'm not even a sentinel and I could smell the sex on you when you came home from Joanne's last month!" 

"I didn't have sex with her. That was your imagination. Anyway, you had no business sleeping on the couch that night! What are you doing...waiting up for me? You have a bed! Sleep in it!" 

"I was _not_ waiting up for you. And my bed, by the way...the springs are broken! I wake up every morning with a backache. It's been like that for four years!" 

"Then you should be used to it by now." 

"Yeah, just like I should be used to your stupid 'house rules'." 

Jim opened his mouth to retort, but his jingling cellphone interrupted. He held up a warning finger to his partner as he answered it. "Ellison." 

"Jim," It was Captain Simon Banks' professional voice. "The Third National Bank on Green Street just got robbed. There are still five people inside with a bomb that's set to go off at 4:30!" 

A quick glance at his watch and Jim saw their time limit was less than ten minutes. "I'm on it, Simon." he said, and dropping the phone in Blair's lap, he jammed on the brake, which whirled the truck around in a tire-squealing U-turn. 

Blair grabbed for the phone as it slid to the floorboard. "Damn it, Jim!" he complained. "That's another thing! I hate the way you drive! I hate getting hurled around in the truck seat like that!" 

"Hold on." Jim accelerated and sped toward Green Street. 

"What's going on, Jim? Where are we going?" 

"There was a bank robbery on Green Street. They left a live bomb." 

"A bomb! And just what are _you_ going to do about a _bomb_?" 

"I'm going to disarm it. Contrary to your persistent claims that I live in fear, I do have a few guts left, Sandburg." 

"I have never doubted that you have guts, Jim. You have plenty. I just think they should get the bomb squad there. You're a homicide detective, not a bomb specialist." 

"Bomb squad's out of town." Jim answered simply. "They got called over to Tacoma." 

"Great." Blair looked away and held onto the door as the truck slid sideways onto Green Street. "You should have gone with them. That might be the perfect department for you with your sentinel abilities." 

One wheel was on the curb. Jim got out of the truck. "Stay here." he said. 

"I don't _think_ so." Blair got out, slammed the door and stormed along beside him. "I've listened to that for four solid years. 'Stay in the truck, Blair.' 'Stay down, Blair, so you don't get hurt.'" 

Jim turned to face him, hands on his hips. A brief, overpowering glare melted into surrender when he beheld Blair's petulant, upturned face. "Okay, what the hell? Come on. You're a grown man, right?" 

"Right." Blair followed him inside the building, grumbling. "You take everything way too seriously. I wish you'd just learn to lighten up." 

"Okay, I'll lighten up." Jim said, striding straight into the room where the five hostages were tied to their chairs, their mouths covered with strips of duct tape. "When you stop treating me like a walking science project. I'll lighten up when you stop chasing women. I'll lighten up when you start having dinner cooked on time when it's your turn." 

He leaned over the wooden crate and studied the bomb, ignoring the five people who waited impatiently for him to set them free. 

"I cook dinner on time when I'm not doing _your_ paperwork!" Blair defended himself. "And I do not treat you like a science project. That's not fair, and you know it. I'm here to help you with your senses. And the women, do you know how long it's been since I've actually _been_ with a woman?" 

"I don't really care, Chief." Jim said coldly. 

"Then why did you bring it up?" 

Jim slid two fingers into the wiring behind the timer. "Maybe because, like you said, I'm being petty." 

"You're being an asshole! You're bossy, you're overbearing, you're arrogant! I don't have a _right_ to say the things I really want to say because you can't stand to listen to them! You expect me to be your quiet, agreeable little friend and never contradict you, and it just doesn't work that way! I wish I could just play back everything that's ever happened between us and let you watch it all. Maybe, then, you'd get a little insight into what's really going on here between us!" 

Jim gave a little tug and the bomb flopped over noisily in the box. The hostages gasped in simultaneous alarm. Jim didn't notice. "Okay, Blair, _tell_ me what's going on. Can't you just tell me? Why does it have to be such a goddamned production with you? Why does everything have to be such a guessing game? Why does it have to be so dramatic...so colorful? Just give it to me in black and white." 

"Black and white." Blair reached to hold the box steady while Jim fiddled with the wires and the little metal clips that held them in place. "Okay. Here's some black and white for you. You won't let me play love songs on the stereo. Jungle music, Led Zepplin, The Dixie Chicks, Jerry Lee Lewis, anything is okay if it's not a tender love song. As soon as you hear the lyrics and realize it's something romantic or contains any sort of human feeling other than hunger or insanity, you turn it off. Why do you do that, Jim?" 

"I wasn't aware that I did that." Jim said. "But tell me this...if you think I don't like them, why do you keep putting them on?" 

"Because you need to learn to _lighten up_! You need to get a little mellow sometimes. You spend too much time all stressed out. You used to let me massage your back to help with the stress, but here lately, every time I even suggest it, you shake me off like I'm talking about pouring acid on you. Honestly, you'd think I was talking about using the rubber hose." 

"I didn't know you were into kinky stuff, Chief." Accidently, Jim pulled a yellow wire free and stumbled back a step, causing the gagged employees to lurch in their seats. The ticking continued. 

"I'm _not_ into kinky stuff and you know it! I just want to know why you're so touchless lately. Is something wrong with your senses?" 

"I'm not touchless. I touch _you_ a lot. I patted your head this morning on our way out the door." 

"You patted my head. I'm your dog, man." 

Jim managed a grin. "You could pass for a poodle. Or maybe a cocker spaniel." he said. 

"I don't want to be your dog." 

"What do you want to be?" 

"I want to be your..." Blair paused, cleared his throat and glanced at the wide-eyed bank employees. He lowered his voice so they wouldn't hear. "...your friend..." 

"You _are_ my friend, Blair. You're my _best_ friend." 

"Then why do you treat me like a dog?" 

"I don't." 

"Yes, you do. 'Stay in the truck, Blair.' Canine translation, 'Stay!' 'Heel!' 'Don't bark, boy.' 'Go fetch my slippers!'" 

"I want you safe. And I've never asked you to fetch my slippers." 

"You want me safe while you risk your life every day?" 

"Yes, I do." 

"If you go, I go, Jim. Do you think I could live with myself if you died because I wasn't there to back you up?" 

Jim sighed and yanked savagely on a red wire until it stripped raggedly from its clip. He pitched it aside. "Blair, you _think_ too much. You ponder too deeply. And you're telling _me_ to lighten up." 

Blair nodded, rubbed his nose and put his elbows on the edge of the box. It tipped slightly on the table top and clattered flat again as he stood straight. "You do, too. You ponder, and you love it when _I_ ponder. Your macho act has never fooled me." 

"I've never expected you to be fooled. Don't you trust me, Blair? I've always been honest with you." 

"Of course I trust you. With my life and everything in it. But you act like you own me." 

As Jim met his eyes, he plucked the blue wire out and discarded it. His voice was soft. "I _do_ own you, Blair." 

Blair stared at him in utter disbelief. "What did you just say?" 

Jim lifted the bomb out of the box, dropped it clumsily onto the table top. The timer continued with it's ticking, the green digits positioned so the captives could clearly read them. Fifty eight, fifty seven, fifty six, fifty five, fifty four... 

Jim caught Blair by the arms and brought him into a loose embrace. "I _do_ own you, Blair...and you own me. We belong to each other. That's what's going on here, isn't it?" 

Blair searched his face. "You mean you're finally addressing the real issue? Oh, man, I can't believe it." He reached up to touch Jim's face. "It's about damn time." 

"When we get home, you can give me that massage...if you still want to." 

Blair smiled emotionally and hugged his neck. "I want to." he whispered, then turned his lips to kiss Jim's cheek. "Why couldn't you have just said these things to me before? Why was it so hard?" 

Jim caught his lips and kissed him gently. "Oh, Blair." he moaned. "I _wanted_ to. I just couldn't seem to...I don't know. I'm just not good with tenderness." 

The gagged bank employees began to grunt with urgency as the numbers steadily counted down the seconds. Thirty one, thirty, twenty nine, twenty eight. 

"I think you're doing just fine." Blair said softly in his ear. 

"I love you, Blair." 

"I love you, too, Jim." 

They shared another sweet kiss, then drew back to gaze at each other. 

"I've been obsessed with you since I met you." Jim explained. "Yeah, me, too. Totally." Blair admitted. "That's the word for it, all right. Obsessed." 

Nineteen, eighteen, seventeen, sixteen, fifteen... 

"You don't have to sleep in that broken bed of yours any more." Jim murmured close to his lips. "You sleep with me from now on, okay?" 

Blair's blue eyes were moist. "Okay. We'll take care of each other, Jim." 

The muffled cries of panic finally gained Jim's attention and he turned casually back to the bomb, inserting his fingers into the structure. His fond eyes lingered on Blair's face as he picked out the green wire and tugged. It was stuck fast. The tipped the bomb to study it, wrinkles forming on his forehead as if he had all the time in the world to solve the puzzle. 

Eight, seven, six, five, four, three... A male bank employee blanched and passed out from fear. 

"I love you." Jim mouthed the words to Blair, and yanked hard on the green wire. It came out with a resounding pop. The timer buzzed and stopped. One green second remained. Picking it up, Jim pitched it back into the box and shoved it to the corner of the table. 

"Okay, let's get these people out of here." he said. "Then we have some things to talk about, you and me." 

"Yes, I think so." Blair hugged him again. "How did you know it was the green wire?" 

"Because it was the only one left." Jim answered simply. 

"I really think you should get on the bomb squad. With your uncanny senses, you would be invaluable to them." 

"I just might do that, Chief. But only if you're going to be there with me every day." 

"Are you kidding? I'm with you, man. Forever." He moved in for another kiss. 

As they untied the hostages and led them outside, Jim yawned and wrapped an arm around his partner. As they slid into the truck seat and drove homeward, the bomb clicked, the one second ticked off to zero, and the massive explosion rocked the entire block. A mushroom cloud formed above the bank. 

Glimpsing in the rearview mirror, Jim sighed. "Then again, maybe I should stick to Major Crimes." he said. 

Sitting close against his side, looking back at the extensive damage, Blair nodded in agreement. "Yeah, I think that would be wise." he agreed. 

the end 


End file.
